


If Today Was Your Last Day

by orphan_account



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Angst, Blood, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other stuff that happens in the zombie apocalypse, Sorry Not Sorry, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 14:29:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3293801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the year 2026, and it's been six months since the solar flares caused a terrible disease to leak out of a top-secret government facility. It basically turns the victims into zombies. It's quite simple; you get bit, you die (unless you're immune, of course). Those who're still alive call this virus the Flare, and very few are immune to it.<br/>Can Newt, Thomas, Minho, and the others survive the apocalyptic world they were forced into?</p><p>Yes, I named this fanfiction after the awesome Nickleback song. Deal with it.<br/>The characters in this and the sadness brought to them all belong to James Dashner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfiction on this website, so please don't hate. Thanks for any comments you might happen to leave and stuff. So, yeah, that's all I wanted to say.

Newt huffed a small sigh as he watched Minho return to camp, his backpack slung across his shoulders and a grim look set on his face. Their camp was literally an abandoned--albeit undamaged--house. It was closer to the countryside than the city, though, and for that Newt was grateful. There weren't nearly as many Grievers out here as in the city.

They hadn't been here very long; only a few weeks, at the least. But really, who was keeping track?

"Minho, ya shank! You get anything bloody useful this time?" Newt chuckled, reluctantly lifting himself from where he sat on the porch step of the house. Minho rolled his eyes, giving Newt a light slap on the back of the head when he walked by.

"Come in the house. I gotta show you what I found. Actually, get the others too," Minho paused, "They'll want to hear this," he added, a genuine smile tugging at his lips as he entered the house. Raising an eyebrow, Newt followed his close friend into the building, half exciting and half dreading what Minho was going to tell them.

"Gally! Get in here! Minho's found somethin'!" Newt called, the quiet  _"hopefully"_  at the end going unnoticed.

"Alright, I'm comin'," Gally snapped, trudging down the unstable staircase and joining Minho and Newt in the dusky, unused living room. Folding his arms across his chest, Gally sent Minho a pointed look.

"Is it important enough to let him off watch to tell him?" Gally asked, gesturing up the stairs where Alby was currently keeping watch. Someone had to do it while Minho was out on one of his supply runs.

"Yeah. Just get him down here. You guys'll love this. Trust me, it's great," Minho assured, a grin forming on his face once again. Newt scoffed lightly, and Gally walked back up the stairs to retrieve Alby.

"Must be somethin' big, if you're so bloody happy about it. What, did ya find some sort of quarantine zone where millions of people are safe and not infected?" Newt asked sarcastically. Minho scowled playfully and lightly slapped Newt upside the head once more.

"Hey, watch your mouth. You don't even shucking know what I found. Although, you _were_ kinda close, I'll give you that," Minho smirked. Newt furrowed his brow in confusion, but before he could speak up, Gally and Alby were thumping down the stairs.

"So, Minho. What was it you wanted to show us?" Alby asked cooly. Minho rolled his eyes.

"Dude, quit with the stupid shuckin' formalities and listen. Okay, so I was doing my normal run through the city, right? So, about five miles from here. A huge hoard is passing through. Headed this way, mind you. And-"

"No offense, Minho, but that sure as hell don't sound like it's "good news"," Gally scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. Minho sent him a small glare, though his excitement was shining through beneath it.

"Lemme finish, shuck-face. Anyways, I had to take cover in one of those buildings we've already looted, and guess who I ran into? Go on, guess!" Minho laughed gleefully. "Teresa! It was shucking Teresa!"


	2. Chapter 2

Newt's eyes widened. "T-Teresa?" he echoed in disbelief. Minho nodded and grinned, taking in his friends' reactions.

"Oh, and she said Thomas was okay, too!" Minho laughed, doing a small happy dance around the room, obviously unable to contain his excitement.

"But...we lost Teresa and Thomas...what, two months ago? Are you tellin' me those shuck-faces are still _alive?_ " Newt asked incredulously, still unable to properly grasp what Minho was saying.

"Yes!" Minho yelled with a loud laugh, running forward and enveloping Newt in a hug. "Can't believe those shanks are still alive," Minho mumbled, Newt grunting in agreement. Alby wore a small smile and Gally looked completely and utterly unfazed by the shocking turn of events.

"So?"

"What do you mean "so"?" Minho asked incredulously, sending Gally possibly the dirtiest look he'd ever received. Still, Gally merely shrugged.

"I mean exactly what I said. Why is it so important that they're alive?" Gally frowned, glancing over at Newt.

"They're our friends, Gally! We've known them for years, and ever since our camp got raided two bloody months ago, we thought everyone else shucking died!" Newt shouted, scowling at Gally.

"And what? Are we just gonna go form a group with them again? In case you haven't noticed, I've only been in this group with you guys for three shuck weeks, and that's only because I woulda died without your guys' help! I don't know either of them, and we don't know if we can trust them! They coulda changed! You never know. They could even be working with WICKED," Gally growled. Minho's eyes widened, Newt's jaw dropped, and Alby raised a eyebrow.

"You honestly think our friends would do that, Gally? Because I don't," Alby stated firmly.

"WICKED raided your camp, and you think everyone just got away as unaffected as your guys did? I'm telling you guys, it ain't safe."

"Then I don't give a klunk. They're our  _friends_ , Gally. I don't know if that means anything to you, but we aren't leaving them just because you're paranoid," Minho voiced. Newt nodded in agreement with his friend.

"Minho's right. We go, and we bloody well meet up with them again. Who knows? Maybe some of the others made it out, too."

Minho gave Newt a small pat on the back, turning to Alby. Alby nodded and all three teenagers turned to face Gally.

"Three against one, Gally. You're outvoted. Now, Minho, when do we go meet up with 'em?"

* * *

"Tom, you shank, move!" Teresa shouted. Thomas immediately sprinted forward a few steps and ducked down, avoiding a Griever that was lurking behind him. Teresa easily drove her screwdriver into the thing's head, causing it to flop to the ground lifelessly. Thomas sighed, wiping the sweat off his forehead and smearing zombie blood on it instead.

"Thanks, Teresa. It's not safe to stay here, you know."

"We have to. I told Minho we'd meet in this store, so we've got to stay here," Teresa affirmed. Thomas sighed quietly and nodded, not willing to argue with his sister. He sheathed his small, but effective, dagger, furrowing his brow as he looked out the shattered remains of the front windows.

"I don't know...What if WICKED finds us?" Teresa rolled her eyes at her brother's paranoia.

"Honestly, Tom, think about it. That was two months ago, and that terrible camp is far behind us." Thomas hesitated, but nodded, hearing the truth in her words. He shifted slightly and lifted his backpack from his shoulders, unzipping it and sifting through the supplies.

"Well, we've got enough food for now, but we're running low on medical supplies," he stated, still peering into his bag. Teresa nodded and glanced over her shoulder to the back of the store.

"Right. I think we should be getting back. Leaving Chuck by himself probably wasn't-" Teresa's voice got cut off by a loud snarl as a lurking Griever jumped her from behind.

"Teresa!" Thomas yelled, quickly pulling out his gun, clicking off the safety, and pulling the trigger. The gunshot rang out for what had to've been miles, and the Griever dropped dead at his sister's feet. "Did it bite you? Teresa! Did. It. Bite. You?"

"No. No, I'm fine....But, uh, Tom? We've got a bit of a problem." Before Thomas could ask what she meant, he heard the low moans and the snarls of Grievers at the front of the store, obviously attracted by the gunshot.

"Shit."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have an idea of where I want this story to go, and-just warning you-it is going to go downhill pretty fast.

"Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit! Teresa, run!" Thomas yelled, turning around and running towards the back of the store. Teresa was quick on his heels, pulling out her small pistol and taking out a few of the nearer Grievers.

"Are we trapped in here?!" Teresa shouted, turning to Thomas for a brief second. He shook his head and pointed towards the display windows at the front.

"Not for long!" Thomas weaved around Teresa and went immediately to the left, where there was a slight opening. If they could squeeze through there without getting bitten, they'd be golden.

"C'mon!" he yelled, grabbing his sister's hand and yanking her along behind him. Thomas had a great experience with running, having been one of the other supply retrievers in there group; before WICKED attacked.

"Go, Teresa! Now!" Thomas screamed, shoving Teresa towards the shattered display windows. The Grievers were piling in and making there way over to them; shuffling, groaning, and shrieking.

"I'm out! Come on, Tom!" Teresa's muffled voice could be heard just barely over the loud sounds emitted from the zombies. Thomas shot a few more times before finally retreating, leaping out the window and landing next to his sister on the cracked pavement.

"Time to go!" he yelped, grabbing Teresa's free hand and pulling her along after him. They ran to the nearest building--a small, one story house with walls and floor caked with blood--and barricaded the doors. Not a great idea, but the first one that came to mind.

"How're they gonna find us now?" Teresa asked, frowning at the small revolver in her hand. "There's no way they'll search all these buildings for us. If anything, they'll think we're dead."

"Lucky you, we know just where you guys would hide." Minho's voice filled the room, shocking both of the siblings.

"Minho!" they shouted in unison, grinning as their old time friend stepped out of the shadows of the dark room. Next to him stood Alby, a boy they didn't recognize, and-

"Newt!" Thomas gasped, rushing forward and enveloping the older boy in a tight hug. A few chuckles sounded throughout the room and Newt patted Thomas on the back.

"We're a'ight, Tommy. Minho got us out fine. I'll tell ya later. For now, what's our shuck plan to get outta here? There's sort of a hoard of Grievers at the front door, and I for one don't feel like invitin' them in for tea," Newt grinned, finally pulling away from the hug. Thomas slung his arm over Newt's shoulder and smiled, both Minho and Teresa rolling their eyes.

"Get a room, you two!" Teresa smirked, chuckling lightly.

"As fun as this little family reunion was, we seriously need to start thinking about how we're gonna get the shuck back to the house," Gally stated rudely, ruining the light atmosphere.

""The house"?" Teresa asked quizzically, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"Our camp. By the way, this is Gally. We found him a few weeks after we all got separated," Minho explained. "He's a bit of a grouch, but you get used to it after a while."

"Oh, shit!" Thomas yelped, moving away from Newt and beginning to pace around the room, mumbling to himself. Everyone else looked on his confusion.

"So, we're about twenty miles away from our old camp, which means WICKED could find us whenever. Our camp is about a mile east, and Chuck is watching over the fort," he muttered to himself, finally stopping his pacing to look up at the rest of the group. "We need to get back to Teresa and I's camp."

"Why?"

"No."

Minho and Gally spoke at the same time, sending small glares at each other.

"Why?" Minho tried again. Thomas huffed a sigh and rubbed his hands together.

"Because we aren't going anywhere without Chuck." 


	4. Chapter 4

"Chuck? Chuck's alive?" Alby asked, raising an eyebrow. Thomas nodded. "Yeah. We got him out, too. It's been me, Teresa, and him for the past few months."

"No, we go back to the house. I don't care if you left the shuck president back at your little camp. We aren't going," Gally sneered. Thomas glared daggers at the boy. Thomas didn't even know him yet, and he already hated him.

"Look, you can always leave, Gally. If you don't like the way we do things, leave."

"Listen here, slinthead, you think-" Gally's beginning to a rant was cut off by a loud gunshot from the front of the house.

"Slim it! Guys, get down and shut your shuck mouths!" Alby whisper-yelled, crouching down and remaining quiet. Everyone else followed suit, crouching down and shutting their mouths, hardly daring to breathe.

"That all of 'em?" A muffled voice was heard through the thin walls of the creaky house. Come to think of it, that was all they heard. The gunshots had stopped, and so had the loud screams and moans of the Grievers.

"Yeah, s'all of 'em."

"Hurry up, then. We gotta get back 'fore Paxton skins us all," the first man grumbled. Thomas casted Newt a worried glance, but the older boy was staring intently at the barricaded door.

"We ain't got nobody, though, Mike. He'll be downright furious, and I like livin'," the second man snapped back.

"You shoulda thought about that 'fore you let that damn kid go. He woulda done nicely, but you let 'im escape. S'why we're doin' this, Jack. 'cause we wanna fix your damn mistake."

Kid? What kid were they taking about? Was it Chuck? Thomas furrowed his brow, hardly breathing as he listened closer to the conversation.

"Oi, Mikey, get o'er here! This door's barr'caded. Pro'lly some stupid kids tryin' a hide from us," Jack muttered. Loud footsteps crunched on the gravel outside and it went silent for a few moments, nothing heard except the quiet breathing of the horrified teenagers inside the house. Suddenly, a loud thump cracked through the air and the rotten wooden door splintered slightly, nearly falling off its hinges. The large bookcase against the door did almost nothing to prevent the men from getting in, and everyone inside seemed to notice this.

"Everybody hide!" Newt hissed, tiptoe-running to duck behind the navy blue couch. Everyone else hid in different locations, their breath caught in their throats as they waited.

"I almos' got it, Jack!" Mike yelled, slamming into the door once again. A loud groan echoed throughout the house and the door was flung open, the bookcase skidding a few feet backwards.

"There'd better be someone in 'ere, or you own me a beer, Jackass," Mike grumbled, stepping into the building. From where Thomas and Newt were hiding behind the couch, the got a small glimpse of the men.

The one in front--Mike--was tall and lean. His hair was cut almost to the scalp and what hair was visible was peppered gray and black. He had a sort of scruffy look about him and looked sort of like a lumberjack; a horrifying lumberjack. Holding an axe. It was a terrifying sight, to say the least.

The man in the back was slightly smaller, but just as muscular. He, however, had a beard and his greasy black hair was long and swept over his shoulders. He, unlike the first man, was holding a hammer. And a gun. 

"Come out, come out, where'er ya are," Mike growled, stepping into the room and striding over to the couch and squinting at it. Thomas held his breath, praying to God the man would move on. Alas, the horrible man merely walked around the couch and spotted both of the boys with ease.

"Jack, c'mere! I found two of 'em!" the man grinned evilly, twisting his axe threateningly. "Now you two come outta there all slow-like, ya hear?"

Thomas glanced over at Newt, who looked absolutely horrified. "Look," Thomas began slowly. "We just-"

"C'mon outta there, kid, or yer not gonna live ta see tomorrow," he growled, cutting Thomas off. Slowly, Thomas began ascending to his feet, biting his lip worriedly.

"You too, kid. Get on up!" Mike spat, referring to Newt. Newt began standing as well, casting Thomas a worried, 'what the hell do we do?' look.

Jack, or whatever his name was, stomped forward and smirked. "These boys'll be perfect. Jus' what the boss woulda wanted," he chortled, twisting the gun around in his hand in quite the careless manner. Thomas glanced behind the man, inhaling sharply when he noticed Minho creeping up on him. Gally was behind Minho, glaring at Thomas with a look that said 'stay quiet, we're trying to help you, idiot'.

"What are you going to do, hmm?" Thomas challenged with a small glare. Newt  grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged on it slightly, as if telling him to shut the hell up before he got them killed.

"That's not up ta us. That's up ta the boss. But, don' worry. I'm sure-" Minho pulled out his gun and shot Jack right in the calf, causing him to collapse to the ground with a howl of pain.

"You lil shits!" Mike screamed, pulling out a gun of his own and aiming it at the first person he saw; Thomas. Before anyone could say or do anything, he pulled the trigger.


End file.
